


Friendly Advice

by Callica



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 06:45:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19267933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callica/pseuds/Callica
Summary: Sol gives Grace some friendly advice on her new roommate.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my first Grace and Frankie fic. This story starts in season one and only somewhat follows canon. Just a small ficlet because I can’t get this idea out of my head. Enjoy!

Setting boundaries was not something Frankie Bergstein found easy. She was an open person with a spirit so free that boundaries would never be able to contain it. But her still intense relationship with her gay ex-husband was quite unhealthy, as Grace had so kindly pointed out many times. Even Frankie, Queen of Eccentricities herself, had to admit that being this close to the man who had completely uprooted her near perfect life of forty years was strange to say the least. There was no denying that she still loved Sol. He was her best friend—the yin to her yang and the Mary to her Jane. However, over the last few weeks, Frankie has come to realize that, as much as she loved him, she was no longer in love with him...if she ever had been at all. 

When they first met, it was perfect. They were perfect. Their personalities, their ideals, their bodies, their everything just fit so perfectly together. Frankie never dreamed of settling down and giving herself wholly to one man for the rest of her life. She never limited herself before Sol. Not with partners, not with genders. It wasn't until Sol proposed that she even thought about marriage. She hadn't wanted to enter into such a binding contract with anyone, but everything seem to fit with Sol. She loved him immensely, but never experienced the kind of love that poets wrote about and singers sang about. But, she did what she thought she was supposed to do—she settled, but it never felt that way. Until forty years went by and Sol left her for his law partner. 

Then she realized that she had settled where he had not. She lived her life dutifully attached to a man who said he loved her; who came home to her almost every night and fell asleep in her arms. She lived her life loving a man who she was never in love with, but was happy enough with. They adopted two wonderful boys and raised them right. They laughed and danced and sang together. All the while, he was traipsing about fucking his law partner and actually falling in love while she was falling behind. 

The sad part was that nothing changed between them while he was having his affair. He still came home and fell asleep in her arms. He still danced and sang and laughed like they had the first twenty years of their marriage. While Frankie dreamed that one day they would eventually fall in love, he had already found it. And she was left in the dust. 

And while she wanted to be angry, all she could feel was the hurt and betrayal. She was never in love, but they were happy. Now, however, she realized that she was free. Free to fuck whoever she pleased. Free to do (almost) whatever she wanted. Free to actually fall in love, even though it was going to be difficult in her seventies. All this freedom could only come once she set boundaries with Sol. The irony made her laugh a little. 

The cycle they were caught in now was toxic to her. She was still clinging helplessly to that idea that they could fall in love. Still holding on to what they had, desperately fearful to lose her normalcy of the last forty years. Scared she was going to be alone during the time she had left. She was sad to lose her best friend, but she was terrified of starting the next chapter without him. Excitement was bubbling beneath the surface, but was almost being squashed down by the fearfulness of the unknown. The only thing that kept Frankie grounded was the thought of being with her. 

Just thinking of her made Frankie smile. She couldn't think of a better person to be going on this late in life journey with. Grace Hanson was so different from Sol. In the beginning, that scared Frankie even more. She wasn't ready for another great change in her life. But a magnificent change it turned out to be. Grace was sarcastically witty. She was a bit of an alcoholic, but Frankie liked weed a little too much. She didn't coddle or sugar coat things. She said what she meant, even if it was mean or bitchy. It was refreshing. She only hoped that Grace wouldn't leave her, too. 

The more Frankie thought about her future, without Sol, the more she saw the blonde becoming her yin, whether Grace liked it or not. If Grace stuck around long enough, she was going to be Frankie's number one. She was going to be what Frankie had been trying to get her to be for as long as they had known each other. She was going to be her best friend, her sister. At least that's what Frankie told herself she wanted. Regardless of what she actually wanted, Frankie was sure of one thing: for now she was not alone. For now, she and Grace were taking their next steps in life together. It was scary but exhilarating. Now all she had to do was take care of her Sol problem.


	2. 1

Grace was proud of Frankie. She was so tired of seeing the brunette hold herself back by still being tied to Sol's apron strings. Grace would never admit it, but that hippie was really starting to grow on her. Maybe it was the sisterhood formed by their cheating exes leaving them and forcing them to lean on each other. Maybe it was the fact that Grace was finally shedding some of her bitchy layers to become a better person. 

As of late, though, Grace found herself seeking out Frankie's presence rather than just tolerating it. She wanted to be near Frankie, and not just to remind her that she was not alone. Grace enjoyed her presence, as loathe as she was to say so. And now, without Sol's influence daunting over her, Grace believed that Frankie was on a path to change herself, and the blonde was excited to see it happen. 

Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. She rolled her eyes as hard as possible before getting up to answer it. She was shocked to see Sol on the other side of the door. 

"Frankie isn't here right now. And as I recall, boundaries were set between the two of you. You shouldn't be here." 

"Relax, Grace. I'm not here for Frankie. I mean, I'm here for Frankie, but not to see her. I'm here to see you... about her." Sol said nervously. 

Grace looked him up and down. It was odd to talk to Sol without either Frankie or Robert around. He seemed worried, like he knew something she didn't.

"Come on in, I guess. I'll grab us some wine and you can tell me all about my roommate." 

Grace stuck her head in the fridge for a moment to escape those overly concerned eyes and that moping puppy dog face Sol was sporting. For someone so happy to finally be with the love of his life, he sure was having a hard time choosing between the man he loved and the woman he spent the last forty years with. 

Grace allowed her thoughts to drift to said woman. She could understand his hesitation in letting her go. There was something about her that made it hard to leave her. Grace had tried her hardest to shake the woman after this whole nightmare began. When she was finally close to getting rid of her, Grace couldn't walk away. Now, she couldn't imagine life without the hippie. 

Sol cleared his throat somewhere behind her, pulling her back to reality. She quickly grabbed the vodka for herself and the wine for him. She had a feeling she was going to need a large vodka martini sans the martini to get herself through this talk. She walked over and handed Sol the wine and ungraciously plopped down next to him—bottle of vodka in one hand, full glass in the other. 

"So what about Frankie, huh? Here to warn me about the amount of pot she smokes or her weird rituals? Or the fact that she's overly interested in my life? I've lived with her for a while now, and I've known her for what feels like forever. I've learned a lot more recently than the immense amount I already knew." Grace took a big gulp of her drink. 

"She's deathly afraid of earthquakes. Not too crazy about storms either. Her anxiety gets so high it could be the death of her. If there's an earthquake, rub her chest. Remind her to belly breathe. If it storms at night, she won't be able to be alone. She'll need to be near you. She's a strong woman, but she scares easily." Grace gave him a pointed look. 

"I can't take care of her anymore, Grace. For the time being, that job is yours. Take care of her as well as you can;listen to her needs when she's scared or gets too far in her head. In return, she will forever be loyal to you. She will take care of you. Here's a journal I've been keeping over the years... it's a guide to Frankie in a way. I think you should have it. If by chance someone else comes along, pass it on to them. She's an enigma. It's taken me many many years, but I've finally unraveled her mysteries." 

Grace looked at the book in her hand. It was quite the novel Sol had written. What to do when she's sad;what to do when she's scared; what to do when she's sick. He left nothing out. 

"What makes you think that I don't already know all of this? Do you think I'm incapable of caring for her without your expert advice?"

Sol interjected before she could begin her rant. "Friendly advice. She's a lot, Grace. You know that. She requires help that she refuses to ask for. This is what works and what doesn't. This makes it easier for you and for her. The way she looks at you, like the sun rises and sets around you- it's..." 

Sol, for the first time since Grace had met him, was having a hard time finding the words to say. "She cares deeply. Once she starts to care, she cannot stop. Even if she wants to. She cares so much about you. I haven't seen her look at anyone other than the kids like she looks at you. Whether you like it or not, you are her new family. She trusts you and she's chosen you. I don't even know if she knows it yet. Take my friendly advice: love her in the best way you can; because no matter what you throw at her, she's going to love you unconditionally." 

Grace sits in silence looking from the book in her hands to the man who gave it to her. 

"You devastated her, you know. I was angry with Robert. I was angry with you. I was even angry at her for not being angry. But she couldn't be angry with you if she had wanted to, which I think part of her did. She couldn't feel anything other than complete and utter sadness. It took me a while, but we managed to pick up most of the pieces. Thank you for this. There are still things I need to know. But this is it. This is your goodbye. I'll take it from here. She needs space from you. She needs to heal. I know her, too Sol. I care for her, too." 

Sol nodded and stood to leave. "What I've done, I can never undo. I get to live with that. But what the two of you get is a second chance—to find love or just live your lives the way you want. Don't let her screw that up, and don't screw it up for yourself either. Take care, Grace. I'm sure we'll run into each other at some point." 

With that, he was gone. Grace sighed with relief. That man grated on her nerves on the best of days. Today was not the best of days. She appreciated his wisdoms on Frankie, but did not appreciate the implications of Frankie's feelings about her. To Grace, he just sounded jealous. Jealous the Grace and Frankie we're moving on an building a friendship. Jealous of Grace because she was there for Frankie and he  couldn't be. Jealous because Frankie loves someone else besides him. 

Grace's heart raced at the thought. Of course Frankie loved her. She would never say it out loud, but she had come to love the brunette in her own way. That's all it was though. Their weird roommate almost friends relationship had given them a bond. But the ways Sol's eyes twinkled a little and his face looked like he had been punched....suggested he saw their relationship, or Frankie's side of it, a little differently.


	3. 2

It had been a few days since Sol's unexpected visit, and Grace could not stop thinking about it. She could not get passed Sol's implications that Frankie felt more for her than just friendship—at least in Grace's mind that's what he was implying. Sure Frankie was flirty and suggestive, but Frankie had always been like that with her. She was just a free spirited, free love hippie; she didn't mean anything serious by it. At least, that's what Grace kept telling herself. She wasn't attracted to Frankie or anything. It's not like she thought about running her hand through Frankie's gorgeous hair or what her body looked like under all of those frumpy clothes. Sure, Frankie was beautiful, but Grace definitely did not notice at all. 

Grace had been religiously reading the Frankie guide. She now knew how to take care of Frankie in most possible situations—inclement weather, natural disaster, power outages, running out of weed, running out of sage, etc. Those "emergency" situations were only covered in the first half of the journal. 

The rest of the pages were filled with personal information about her roommate—lists of her favorite books, movies, poems, songs, art supplies; recipes for meals she loves; stores where Sol purchased this item or that; a few playlists depending on Frankie's ever-changing mood. It was really sweet, actually. Grace felt a small pang of jealousy at the book. Sol had really put a lot of thought and care into documenting all things Frankie. No one had ever done such a lovely gesture for Grace, but Frankie really deserved it. 

Grace felt so close to Frankie now, and she felt bad that the brunette didn't know about the book. And that Robert didn't have a book for her in return. There were still several pages left in the book Grace had yet to read. She was getting ready to escape up to her room when she smelled Frankie's visitor, Mary Jane. She followed the scent to the porch where she found the hippie doing hippie things that she didn't understand. What she did understand was the body language Frankie was displaying. Something was on her mind. 

"You okay, hon?" Grace said timidly hoping not to scare Frankie or disturb the peace. Frankie exhaled sharply turning to find the source of the voice. 

"Tomorrow is the day... moving day," was all Frankie said before turning around and taking a huge hit off her joint. Grace knew how hard she had been taking moving day. She was going to miss her old house, even though she had refused to spend one night in it since Sol left. Frankie really did not like change. 

Grace remembered reading it in Sol's book. Grace couldn't remember if there was anything specific she should do, so she followed her newfound "Frankie intuition." 

Grace placed a shaky hand on Frankie's shoulder. She didn't know why she was shaking, but she pushed it all aside to focus on the one person who mattered. "Hey, change seems scary. But I think we're getting pretty good at it. Don't look at it as losing something. Houses are just houses. Your memories were made there, but they don't stay there. The memories stay with you. The house is just walls and a roof. Home, home is where you want it to be. 

Tomorrow is going to bring up lots of memories and lots of emotions. Those don't stay confined in the house. They follow you when you leave. You're the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it's you." 

Grace gave the shoulder a squeeze and began to walk away when she felt fingers wrap around her wrist. Fingers that were rough and strong, but held a certain softness to them at the same time. She shouldn't be thinking of Frankie's fingers. Or how nice they felt. Or how her skin felt hot where they were. But she couldn't think of anything else at the moment. 

"This is it, Grace. All this change in our lives hasn't reached an end yet. We've opened the door and haven't shut it. Once I shut this door, it can't be opened again. I don't know if I'm ready to shut it. I don't know if I can." 

Grace was trying to come up with something, anything to make her friend feel better. She sounded so broken. As broken as she did right after their worlds were ripped apart. Her regression was scaring Grace, but those damn fingers were still on her skin. She couldn't think about anything other than the fire that was starting to spread through her body. 

Instead she moved to stand in front of Frankie. Seeing the tears rolling down her cheeks, the only thing she could think to do was pull the brunette into her. Be the shoulder to cry on. She raked a hand through Frankie's gorgeous hair in an attempt to soothe her friend. While it seemed to work, Grace became preoccupied with the brown and silver locks. She didn't know hair could be that soft. It smelled like lavender with a hint of marijuana. It was the most Frankie of smells she had ever smelled. She drifted closer and closer until her face was completely in it. And there was that warmth again. Frankie was calm now, but Grace wasn't quite ready to let go. She wanted to stay here forever. 

"You know," Frankie's muffled voice broke their peaceful silence... as usual, "I should have shut this door a long time ago. You, Robert, Sol, the kids—you all have known for a long time that this was over. You've already moved on, our exes clearly have, and the kids' lives have gone on. I'm the only one who didn't get the message. And maybe because I didn't want to hear it. But I hear it now. I think I'm going to be just fine tomorrow." 

Grace placed a kiss on Frankie's head and took a step back. The brunette was sporting one of her signature grins on her face. 

"There's my Frankie," Grace said without thinking. Her face, neck, chest, whole body turned bright red. "N- not MY Frankie. Just the Frankie that I've come to know recently. The happy you. The- I'm going to just shut up now." 

Frankie hadn't seen Grace flustered like this in ages and it brought a smile to her face. She would let it slide for now, but she wanted to know why she was suddenly her Frankie. The thought of belonging to Grace made her feel warm inside. She excused herself to her studio before she turned a similar shade to the blonde. 

With Frankie in better spirits and within a safe distance from her, Grace let out a huge breath. She climbed the stairs to her room and face planted into her bed. Those feelings from downstairs were new, but Grace was too tired to process them. Instead she opted to finish what was proving to be her new favorite book. 

She flipped to the book marked page to see Frankie's green goop smoothie recipe. She turned the page expecting to see another recipe. What she found was a recipe in another sense. 

The book took a turn toward the more....intimate. The last 20 pages or so was a complete manual to a Frankie orgasm. Details upon details of her favorite positions, sensitive spots, where she liked to be touched, how she liked to be fucked. If Grace thought she was red before she didn't know what she was now. No matter how much she wanted to look away, she couldn't. It was like something inside of her had to know this information. It was like her brain, her heart, and her soul could not live without this information now that she knew it was available. So rather than putting the book down like she knew she should, she took in every last detail, no matter how small, as if it were giving her life. She must have read those twenty pages a hundred times each. She had the roadmap of Frankie's body memorized by 2 a.m. Sleep after that was not an option. Instead she opted for a cold shower and a whole lot of vodka.


	4. 3

Grace rolled over to check her clock. Her vision was blurry, but she made out the numbers just fine-3:02. Grace Hanson did not sleep this late. Ever. She tried to jump out of bed, but the pain in her head knocked her back into the mattress. Grace was a skilled, practiced drinker. She did not get hangovers. Yet here she was, hungover, waking up in the afternoon, and she was still clutching that damn book. 

The touches, the stares, the heat she felt when around Frankie all made sense now in her muddled brain. It was this goddamn book. She was fine before Sol had given it to her. But ever since she read the first fucking page, her life had been falling apart. Spiraling out of control with one destination in mind—Frankie. Grace sighed as she realized she had missed seeing Frankie off for moving day. By now, she was sure moving day was over. 

She pulled herself out of bed and dressed in her comfiest outfit that still made her look somewhat put together. Even though she knew it wouldn't hide the exhaustion or the hangover, she put on her makeup and poofed up her hair. Just as she was finishing up, she heard the door click open and shut. She descended the stairs ready to hear all about the adventures of her day spent with Sol and the boys, but found herself staring at Sol himself. 

"Any more friendly advice you've come to share can be saved. I think I found more than enough in that book of yours," she said flatly. "Also, hand over your key. The divorces are finalized and this house is ours. You can knock like everyone else." 

Sol handed over his key. That puppy dog face was back. Something else was wrong. 

"Where's Frankie," he's asked. There was such an edge in his voice that it frightened Grace. 

"What do you mean? She was just with you." 

Grace was trying hard not to fly into panic mode, the hangover all but forgotten. She reached for a bottle of wine and kept her hand just steady enough to uncork it. She was about to pour her and Sol a glass when she heard his breathing start to sound labored. 

"We slept together. She ran off. I need to find her." 

Grace almost dropped the bottle of wine in her hand. She spun around so quickly it made her dizzy. "You. Did. WHAT?" 

Sol took a step back and lowered his gaze to the floor. Grace felt nauseous and dizzy and angry and too many emotions at once for her liking. She tried to be calm. She tried to be reasonable. All she could see was red. 

"She was doing so good. Do you know how much this is going to set her back?! What the fuck were you thinking?" She tried not to yell, but she couldn't contain her anger. All of that progress the two of them had made together was gone and forgotten by now. Hurricane Sol swept in and destroyed her once again, leaving Grace to pick up the pieces. 

"Being in the house together with the kids brought a lot of feelings back to the front of my mind, and my heart. I didn't mean for it to happen. I swear. Any ideas as to where she could be?" 

"Oh I have a feeling I know where she is. You, on the other hand, have done enough harm for a lifetime, so I suggest you go. Good luck telling Robert what you've done." 

Sol hung his head and walked to the door. Before he left he turned to look at Grace. She was taken aback at the honesty on his face. "You're a lucky woman, Grace Hanson. She loves you. So so much. More than she ever loved me." 

Without another word, he was gone. Grace wanted to process the words he had said, but her friend needed her. If she didn't need love and comfort, Grace was more than willing to kick her ass for being so stupid. Without thought, Grace grabbed the wine and two glasses and took off for the beach as fast as her legs would move her. While the sand slowed her down, she found Frankie in record time. She was surrounded by a beautiful sandcastle. A gorgeous mess of brown and silver curls blew in the wind, dancing almost. 

"I thought I might find you here. Looks like someone has been busy. Sleeping with your gay ex-husband must be very inspirational." 

"Sol got to you already?" was the only response. Grace skillfully popped the cork from the bottle and poured two large glasses while closing the distance between them. She handed one to Frankie and nodded, allowing the silence to envelop them. The soothing sound of the waves crashing against the shore finally calmed Grace down enough. The wine might have helped a little too. Her anger at Sol was dissipating the longer she was with Frankie. She still felt something gnawing at her from the back of her mind, but she could ignore anything if Frankie needed her to. 

"There's something I should've told you before now, and I want to start by saying how sorry I am for keeping it from you." Grace took a breath and a huge drink of wine. 

"You sleep with Sol, too? Apparently that's going around these days." Frankie was dry, no traces of mischief present on her face or in her eyes. 

"The day you went over and set the boundaries with him, he paid me a visit. He gifted me a book—basically its everything a partner, or roommate, would ever need to know about you. He gave it to me and told me it was my turn to take care of you since he no longer could. I-I read it. Cover to cover." 

Grace looked up to see Frankie staring at her with surprise. That soon turned to curiosity. 

"Do tell. What don't I know about myself?" 

Grace sensed some sarcasm and hostility. She prayed it was directed at Sol rather than her. She couldn't live with Frankie hating her. "It starts out with how to handle—I mean help you in the case of certain emergencies; like the earthquake thing that I didn't realize was so serious. Storms, power outages, anything and everything that would give you a fright." 

Frankie nodded. "Actually important information. Go on." 

"The next little bit was about your favorite things. About your rituals. Just about what makes you the Frankie I know and love." 

If Frankie noticed Grace say she loved her, she didn't point it out. "Keep going, Hanson. There something you're not telling me. There's something you're feeling guilty for. What is it?" 

"Well he included recipes for meals you like and your weird healthy smoothies. So I can make you whatever you want when we go home. You must be starving." 

"GRACE. Spit. It. Out." Frankie said sternly through gritted teeth. 

"The last pages were a very detailed guide to how you enjoy making love. I wanted to put it down. Pretend I had never seen it. Something pulled me in. I read it and I'll never be able to forget it. And I'm sorry. That's why I didn't see you off this morning. I was passed out drunk because I felt guilty and couldn't sleep. I woke up not long before Sol let himself in looking for you." 

Frankie burst out laughing. "Fuck me. Grace Hanson now knows how to fuck me. I thought it was going to be something private I had told him years ago. All my dirty little secrets splayed out on the pages. It's just sex, Grace. It's not like you're going to use that knowledge against me. You can try, but it will only work in my favor." 

Grace could feel herself getting warm, and it wasn't the wine. "So, how was it?" 

"He really is gay, or maybe I'm gay, or we both are. It was that bad." It was Grace's turn to laugh. 

"We deserve more than this shit. You're a beautiful woman who just slept with a gay man. I just broke up with a ruggedly handsome man because he loved me. What the fuck is wrong with us?" 

Grace pulled Frankie up from the sand and her beautiful creation. "You sure you want to leave this?" 

"It's not the first house I've walked away from today. You know, maybe we're just comfortable together. We've gotten comfortable in our new normal and we're not ready for a change again. I mean, I know we're not getting any younger, but I like what we've got going on, Hanson. I like you." 

"Eh, you're alright, Bergstein. A little kinky, but still alright." 

They shared a laugh and wine and waited for the sun to set. It wouldn't be their first time cuddling up and watching the sunset together. Sitting in silence with a drink or a joint between them admiring the amazing view their beach house offers was becoming a regular. The things left unsaid that lingered in the silence kept them coming back for more. The air was electric between them when those loud silences fell. Maybe they were comfortable together. Maybe that wasn't all bad.


	5. 4

"I want to see it," Frankie said following Grace into her room that night. They both flopped on the bed and Grace reached under her pillow. She fished out the object and handed it to Frankie. 

"Take it. I think I've got a handle on things without it." 

"I just wanna read the last little bit. Where's the dirty stuff start?" Frankie asked all too excited. Grace couldn't help but roll her eyes, even though there was a faint smile on her lips. 

"I'm going to take a shower. Make yourself comfortable here if you like. I won't be long." 

Frankie yelled out as she walked to the stairs. "I'm taking it down with me to have a smoke. Come down when you're done." 

Grace stepped under the warm spray and let it melt away last night's mishap and this morning's hangover. She started thinking about all the things Sol had said. 

Frankie was so crazy about him. Grace couldn't think for the life of her why he would think she loved Grace more than she ever loved him. Sure she wanted to be with Grace as much as she could. But Grace was a bitch to her. Turned down her attempts at friendship left and right. Yet she never gave up. She started everyday trying to get closer to Grace, and at some point that Grace could not quite remember, she had started letting Frankie in. Now they had a camaraderie going that only the two of them could understand. At least, Grace pretended to understand it. 

She switched off the water, which had gone cool at some point. She wrapped herself in a towel and headed to her room to get dressed for bed. She was going to open the floor to Frankie. Let her in. Allow her to ask anything she wanted. Like that question game her kids used to play. 

She walked into her bedroom and nearly died of a heart attack. On her bed sat Frankie who was staring at her barely covered body intently. Grace shivered. Is this what it felt like to be wanted? No. Frankie did not want her. Yet, she hadn't stopped her wandering eyes since Grace stepped through the door. 

"See something you like?" Grace meant for that to come out sarcastic, but instead it came out shaky and breathy. She saw Frankie swallow before her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She still hadn't met Grace's eyes. But she nodded before dropping her gaze down to the book. 

"Wasn't as good of a read as I thought it would be. You can have it back."

"Frankie. Look at me." 

"I can't, Grace. I can't look at you right now. Because all I can think about is the little bits of flesh hidden under that towel now that I've seen the rest of it. You're beautiful without your makeup, by the way. Natural looks good on you, just like everything else." 

The sadness in Frankie's voice was dampening the warmth that was starting to spread through Grace again. She didn't know what this sadness was or where it came from. She only knew she had to fix it. She, against her better judgment, released her grip on the towel. The too small strip of cotton fell in a pool at her feet. She heard Frankie gasp. She slowly began walking towards the bed and her now shanking friend. 

"Page 8–What to do When Frankie is Upset. Physical contact is necessary in order to keep Frankie grounded. Without it, she'll get lost in her mind forever." 

Grace stopped just short of Frankie, but still within arms length. She put two fingers under Frankie's chin and brought her face up into view. She looked confused, sad, maybe a little angry. Most importantly, she looked beautiful. That damn book of Sol's made her see Frankie with her eyes the way her heart already saw her. Since starting to read it, she started noticing so many things about her hippie. Her beauty was something she had always noticed, but she was seeing her beauty radiating from the inside out now, making it almost blinding. She knew what was going on, probably had in he back of her mind for a while, and for the first time, she was happy to let it happen. 

"Now, Frances, I have two very conflicting reports of physical contact in this book here. Which one would you prefer I go with?" 

Frankie shuddered at her words. Maybe Grace was just now realizing the love she felt for Frankie, but something in Frankie's gaze right now said that she had known for a while. So rather than wait for an answer, Grace bent down to kiss Frankie. First her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. The second their lips touched, Grace felt so stupid. It was like the hectic world around them clicked into place. All the craziness came to a complete stop and everything was just calm. 

Grace couldn't tear herself away from Frankie. Instead she moved herself closer—as close as she could get. She gasped when those fingers she was just admiring last night began to explore her skin. That same fire ignited, this time all over her body. It didn't take her long before her fingers wrapped into that hair she so loved. She broke the kiss just long enough to take in the scent that was 100% Frankie. 

Frankie used that moment to throw the book to some corner of the room where it would lay forgotten until in the morning. In their moment of bliss, they missed the distant cracks of thunder and faint sounds of rain falling outside. 

"Page 3–What to do During a Thunderstorm: under no circumstances should Frankie be left alone. So what do you say, Frances—spend the night with me?" 

"Goddamn that book is good," was the only response she got before Frankie pulled her in for another kiss. This one more passionate than the last. Frankie slipped out of her cardigan easily before undoing the buttons on her overalls. She grabbed Grace's cute ass and picked her up. She spun around and laid her on her back, coming down gently on top of her. She squirmed out of the rest of her clothes in no time before joining Grace in her bed. 

"I would like to warn you, Hanson. I don't like sleeping alone. You may have just opened a can of worms that you can't close." 

Grace chuckled. "Frankie, honey, you're welcome in my bed anytime. Move in if you like. But I do have a rule for overnight guests." 

"Oh? And what might that be?" 

"Clothes are only to be worn outside of the bed." 

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You'll be the death of me, Hanson. But what a sweet death it will be."


	6. Epilogue

Grace woke up feeling energized and happy. She felt the weight on her chest, and she was surrounded by the sweet scent of lavender and marijuana. A scent that six months ago would've have driven her crazy, now it drives her wild. 

The woman next to her stirred only slightly before cuddling into her even more, if that was possible. Grace allowed her hand to go to its new favorite place—the wild brown and silver locks that were currently tickling her nose. She had never woken up this happy before, nor had she ever felt so relaxed. She replayed the last few months over in her head. How had she missed all the hints Frankie had given her? Sol had practically come out and said it, and yet she still missed it. She was so wrapped up in taking care of Frankie that she almost missed her completely. 

That goddamn book was a lifesaver. She wasn't too keen on giving Sol credit for this. His book, however, was a different story. When Frankie rolled away from her to find a more comfortable position, Grace slipped out of the bed in pursuit of the kitchen. She made coffee and toast and gathered it all together to take upstairs to her lover. No, she was more than a lover. She was the love Grace had been longing for all these years. 

She walked in to find Frankie scribbling furiously on a folded up piece of paper. "Good morning, love. I brought coffee and breakfast and what are you doing?" 

Frankie shoved the piece of paper and pen off the side of the bed. "Nothing that can't wait a little longer. Breakfast in bed? You spoil me, Grace Hanson." She beamed up at the woman who had screamed her name several times just a few hours ago. Just thinking about last night sent chills down her spine and heat to her core. She moaned at the memories of it. That book really came in handy after all. 

Grace sat down with their breakfast and took a nice long sip of her coffee. She looked over to Frankie, who was a hot mess after the night they had had. Grace smiled so big she thought she was going to break her face. This was how every morning should start. It wasn't the coffee or the breakfast in bed. It wasn't even waking up after the best sex of her life. It was waking up next to the woman she loved. 

"Stay with me?" It seemed like it came out of nowhere, but both women knew what she was really asking. 

"Only if you'll be mine forever." 

Grace sat her coffee down and looked at Frankie with as much seriousness as she could muster considering they were both naked and disheveled. "Frances Bergstein, are you proposing to me?" 

Frankie beamed at her. "If our husbands can marry each other, why can't we? Also, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend my life with. I'm comfortable, Grace. No more change for me. I want this, us, to always stay the same." 

Before Grace had any chance to process, she blurted out, "Of course, Frankie. Who in their right mind wouldn't want to marry you? Even a gay man did at one point." 

They found each other amidst their forgotten breakfast tray. Frankie took one look into those beautiful baby blues in front of her and knew she was home. She kissed Grace like it was the last time she was ever going to do it. 

When they broke apart, they laid in the silence, which, for the first time didn't hold so many unsaid things. It was comfortable—they were comfortable. Grace absentmindedly began playing with Frankie's hair while Frankie drew patterns on Grace's stomach. It was all perfect. Every bit of it. Grace, however, had one more question that was bugging her. 

"What were you writing when I came through the door?" 

"Well," Frankie started to get shy. Grace thought it was adorable and almost forgot her question. "Seeing as you have this very in depth Frankie book, I thought I'd write my own about you. Let's just say I was already writing the last chapter." She gave Grace a quick smirk and an amazing kiss. 

"You really are something, Frances."


End file.
